Battlestar Galactica 2.3: "Fragged"

Written by Dawn Prestwich and Nicole Yorkin
Directed by Sergio Mimica-Gezzan

In which Col. Tigh continues his downward spiral as he struggles with calls to free the president, while the situation on Kobol comes to a disturbing head as Baltar’s conversion continues…


Every time I think that things can’t get worse for the Colonials, the writers up the ante. This time, it’s all about the interplay of the plot threads on Galactica and Kobol. As situations go completely downhill, it’s all about how fortunes change, present and future. Tigh’s decisions lead to Roslin’s unexpected return to power as a spiritual leader and another step towards a conflict between religious and warrior factions, which is always a lot of fun. Meanwhile, Crashdown’s inevitable loss of perspective leads to a disturbing consequence involving Baltar.

I suppose it was inevitable that Tigh would return to his drinking, and it sure as hell doesn’t help him make better decisions! It’s not very helpful that the entire crew seems to know that he’s losing stability, thanks to his past history, and that they don’t feel like they can do anything about it. After all, what would they do? They’re already reeling from the loss of Adama’s strong and consistent leadership. There’s really no one else that they could rally support behind, is there?

Except Roslin, of course, and that’s the problem. Tigh has never respected Roslin, and apparently, he respects the whole idea of the Scrolls of Phylia even less. But when people are seeking a sense of direction, religious leaders are particularly compelling. Roslin also knows the value of when to claim some kind of foretold authority. She truly believes herself to be the instrument of the Lords of Kobol, and what’s more, the Quorum of Twelve believes her.

So Adama basically threw down the gauntlet, because the “religious leader” compelled one of his warriors to defy orders. The response was the assumption of total control by Adama, who was then the victim of a brutal attempt on his life by the enemy. Now the reversal of fortune is in play: Roslin is regaining a purpose and political strength, while the military leadership struggles to retain control. Tigh is simply not Roslin’s equal, and so rather than convince others of the strength of his political stance, he seeks to impose his will.

While Roslin believes that she is following the Lords of Kobol, Baltar continues to operate under the impression that he is the instrument of God. Of course, he has no idea what God wants of him, other than the fact that he is meant to embrace the more violent aspects of his humanity. This is perhaps indicative of how the Cylons think, but that’s not necessarily a given. It’s what Six wants Baltar to hear, and that’s about all I get out of it.

Whatever the case, the question I have in my mind is how Baltar’s ongoing conversion is going to be used to support Roslin or transform her message into something that will benefit the Cylons. If Six is not speaking for the rest of the Cylons, then it’s even more of a blurred picture. It feels like Baltar is being honed into an instrument, a willing strike at the heart of the Colonials. Beyond that, there’s still a lot of story to be told before motivations are likely to be clarified.

If Ellen Tigh is a Cylon, as strongly hinted in the first season, then it makes sense that she would want her husband to take control. He’s so far out of his depth that his “leadership” would be catastrophic. Undermining Roslin was her apparent goal (and that once again suggests that Baltar is being groomed to pervert or subvert her message). How much worse would it be if she turned out to be simply human, indulging some love of chaos?

The end of the struggle on Kobol came together quite nicely. I never expected things to get quite so intense, but then, I suppose I should have known better. I really believed that Crashdown would shoot Kally right then and there! I love how things get out of hand, even within the structure of a rather predictable resolution. I expected the Colonials to save the SAR team at the last possible moment, and for the Raptors to arrive when all seemed lost. It’s how the writers managed to sneak in a little doubt that made the episode for me.

With the Kobol situation more or less over, I expect that the next episode will actually bring an update of the situation on Caprica. The prophecies related to the Arrow and the Temple were mentioned again, so clearly that’s something that will continue to unfold. And then there’s the timetable suggested by Roslin’s admission of impending death. If she is the foretold leader, then she’s got very little time to point the Colonials towards Earth. My bet is that the entire season will be the process of getting to that part of the tale.

Writing: 2/2
Acting: 2/2
Direction: 2/2
Style: 2/4

Final Rating: 8/10

Buffy 4.17: "Superstar"

Written by Jane Espenson
Directed by David Grossman

In which Jonathan casts a spell that makes him the best at everything, but when a monster starts attacking people, Buffy begins to figure out that the world is not as it should be…


Status Report

After a couple of episodes that focused strongly on Buffy, Faith, and Adam, the season’s theme of self-identity veers into unexpected territory with this installment. Essentially a professional version of the everyday fanfic “Mary Sue” staple, this is all about someone trying to escape one’s reality through creation of fantasy world. In the process, much is revealed about the characters and what they believe about themselves.

Everyone sees in Jonathan, thanks to his spell, the person that they wish they could be. In some cases, it’s the effect of the spell; it’s as if a little bit of everyone was stolen away so that Jonathan could be the best at everything at all times. But that also serves to emphasize, for many of the characters, the qualities that they struggle with about themselves.

Right from the beginning, the effects are obvious on Buffy and Giles. Buffy lacks her usual confidence and sharpness, which is remarkably like the person that Buffy had been in the season premiere. This actually helps to explain why Buffy is able to recognize that something is very wrong as the episode unfolds; Buffy has been in this psychological space before, and she was able to work past it.

Giles, on the other hand, seems obsessed with gaining some sense of approval for his efforts. The suggestion is that he feels like his life is lacking a clear direction and meaning, and that his purpose as Buffy’s mentor has lost much of its necessity. The fact is that Giles doesn’t know what to do without the Watchers; as the series would later demonstrate, he eventually finds a way to resolve that inner conflict when the opportunity presents itself.

If this episode had focused entirely on the fallout of Faith’s seduction of Riley, then it might have been a bit tiring. Allowing the healing process to take place within the context of Jonathan’s fantasy world is a brilliant move. Jonathan points out exactly what many fans assumed in the previous episode: Buffy is disappointed that Riley couldn’t do what she could do with Giles in “A New Man”. Using the “Mary Sue” of Jonathan to point it out is really just a different spin on exposition, letting the audience understand Buffy’s emotional state while keeping things interesting.

Beyond the sight gag of Jonathan working with the soldiers of the Initiative, that scene reveals important aspects of the season arc. For one, it firmly connects the Initiative to a military operation, secret or otherwise. It also highlights the fact that the Initiative is completely unprepared for an adversary with the intelligence and purpose like Adam. Jonathan gets to deliver more exposition on Adam (including producing design specs that really shouldn’t exist), setting the stage for the end of the season.

Like Buffy, Riley’s emotional state is explored in his conversation with Jonathan. Another intriguing question comes up: even in her confused state, did Faith rock Riley’s world? After everything that Faith mentioned to Spike, one has to wonder if she didn’t use a few of those tricks on Riley. It’s unlikely, since Faith wasn’t operating in her usual vixen mode, but Buffy’s concerns on that end would be sensible.

Turning to Xander and Anya, some interesting aspects of their relationship are revealed. Xander, not surprisingly, has some serious self-confidence issues. He’s constantly worried about whether or not he’ll prove worthy of Anya’s near-constant attentions. Anya’s obsession with all things Jonathan doesn’t help. One can speculate that this is indicative of an obsessive personality in general, based on her transition to human life and the need for something to give her a consistent feeling of comforting normality. (There’s also an odd return to the “Is Xander gay?” motif of earlier seasons, but it’s not that meaningful.)

What’s most interesting about Jonathan in this episode, beyond how his spell throws the format off kilter, is how he chooses to live out the world of his spell. He could simply be rich and beloved, but it goes beyond that. He genuinely wants to help people, and it genuinely bothers him that Karen is hurt because of something related to his spell. He immediately recognizes that the creature is a product of his choice, and for the rest of the episode, Jonathan deals with the fact that he can’t allow others to be hurt, even if he gets everything he wants in the process. (This becomes very important to his character in the sixth season.)

Even Adam’s reaction is revealing. Adam responds in such a way as to explain the depth of his perception and how he interprets it. Clearly, Adam thinks of himself as being far more powerful than he really is, but he’s still gathering data and trying to build his understanding of his purpose and being from that data. It’s exactly what all self-aware beings do; most of them simply don’t have self-diagnostic programs to help them along!

Getting Riley to the point where he takes Buffy’s side, despite the evidence of his own senses, was a big part of this episode. Riley is a lot closer to seeing the world from outside of the Initiative’s perspective. Unfortunately, this also means that his strongest material is nearly at an end; once his character arc is done, his presence is little more than a distraction in the fifth season. But that moment also mirrors Buffy’s realization in the season premiere, where she grabs onto reality, despite the momentary lack of self-confidence.

In another early hint at what would come to pass between Buffy and Spike, Spike shows a remarkable amount of attraction to the Slayer. For that matter, she’s rather attracted back. This is possible foreshadowing for the sixth season (Joss plans a couple seasons ahead, after all), since a lack of confidence and self-worth opens the door for her attraction to dark things. After everything Faith said to Spike in the previous episode, there’s certainly a lot of reason for him to consider what it would be like!

One thing doesn’t quite come together. The Scoobies figure out that in order for Jonathan to become a paragon of everything good, then the monster is supposed to be a paragon of everything bad. Except, of course, that the monster is rather unimpressive. Conceptually, it works; in practice, it simply wasn’t possible.

As Jonathan comes to the realization that he must accept who he is, rather than endanger others in the process of trying to be a paragon, Buffy comes to the realization (at least on a certain level) of who she is supposed to be. In essence, she is realizing what it really means to be a Slayer. That leads directly into the eventual consequence of the fourth season: Buffy’s search for self-identity turns into a quest to understand what it means to be a Slayer.

As a diversion (and even as a distraction), the Jonathan/”Mary Sue” concept worked well enough. It’s not the kind of episode that one watches very often, but when running through the DVDs, it’s a pleasant change of pace. Jane Espenson gets to show her best snark, and the cast gets to play things a little differently than usual. It’s rare for commentary on fanfic and the season’s theme get to have so much in common!


Memorable Quotes

XANDER: “It is a true test of dexterity.”
ANYA: “Can you open this?”
XANDER: “No, I tear it and it gets all sloshy…”

ANYA: “Xander’s not here.”
BUFFY: “Oh.”
ANYA: “You’re not going away. Why aren’t you going away?”

ANYA: “Oh…you’re still here. That’s nice…”

BUFFY: “And I’m the Slayer…the Slayer! That’s supposed to mean something!”
ANYA: “Oh, buck up, you! You kill the best…go you! Kill kill!”

BUFFY: “Stop with the shrimp! I am trying to do something here!”

BUFFY: “Giles, do you have a Jonathan swimsuit calendar?”
GILES: “No! Yes. It was a gift!”

WILLOW: “Buffy was right. Buffy was right!”
ANYA: “It doesn’t sound very likely, does it?”

XANDER: “You know what I’ll always remember?”
RILEY: “The swimsuit calendar’s sticking in my mind. Not in a good way.”


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode is a pleasant diversion from the usual format, with just enough overlap with the “real Buffyverse” to allow the writers to maintain progress on the season arcs. Jonathan’s story works perfectly with the season’s theme of self-identity, and it’s damned funny as well! The concept itself doesn’t quite work in the end, thanks to a lame monster, but it’s still one of the more amusing fourth season episodes.

Writing: 2/2
Acting: 2/2
Direction: 2/2
Style: 2/4

Final Rating: 8/10

Ghost Hunters 2.1: "27 Jul 2005"

Case Study: Myrtle’s Plantation


I divurge somewhat from my usual reviewing slate here, because this is one of those few reality series that I actually think has a compelling subject matter. I could really care less about people redecorating at this point, makeovers that emphasize conformity, dating shows that emphasize conformity, etc. And since I don’t really care much about cars, all those shows can take a hike, too. (Yes, I watch “Survivor” and “American Idol”, but I don’t pretend that they have any lasting effect on my consciousness.)

“Ghost Hunters”, on the other hand, offers a potent double punch: compelling individuals with a rather unique perspective on the world, and possibly the most scientific approach to paranormal investigation I’ve seen. And there’s part of why I love this: I’ve actually participated in this kind of thing before, and Jason and Grant are correct when they say that most groups try to prove the existence of the paranormal. These guys try to debunk hauntings. The difference is that what some might say is evidence is, to them, not enough to meet their expectation.

Of course, the best part is delving into the crazy little world that they’ve created for themselves. There’s a whole subculture out there that considers TAPS to be highly reputable. I look at how they describe and rationalize their own experiences, past and present, and consider it an interesting take on how people respond to questions that they cannot answer. Every so often, they stray from evidence into sincere discussion about demonology. One could easily decide that these people are crazy…and yet, who doesn’t try to reconcile something that science and religion cannot fully explain?

The best part of the series, of course, is the investigation aspect. I love seeing the process that they go through, both the “science” and the subjective comments, and I love the fact that they show anything that they “find” and then break it down for the audience. A lot of what they find, they dismiss and explain away, even when it’s fairly compelling evidence to the audience. This episode was no exception.

I’ve actually been to the Myrtle’s Plantation, back in my Anne Rice fandom days in the mid 1990s. A lot of those “hot spots”? I’ve actually been there! I remember hearing a lot of the same stories, so I was very interested in seeing what they would find. I’ll admit, though, that I was slightly disappointed in how little they documented, especially when people started flipping out. And way too much time was spent on Brian and his possible firing. (This just goes to show how hard it is to get rid of a bad employee.)

OK, so on to the “evidence”!

I find it very interesting that neither Jason nor Grant remembered that little story about the 17th step, because that’s exactly the spot at which that heat signature showed up on the thermal camera. It was too much of a coincidence, in my book, and given their eventual conclusions, it would have been a great combination of anecdotal evidence and a recorded anomaly.

The other thermal image wasn’t linked to anything, but it was a lot more bizarre. Because they had to spend so much time at the beginning of the episode rehashing the mission statement and concept behind the series, they didn’t get into the operation of the camera. That kind of anomaly is hard to reconcile, especially since the recorded image was of something very close to the camera. If something “normal” had been there, Jason and Grant would have seen it.

I found it odd that the most compelling evidence was considered to be the lamp. Sure, they tested how the lamp would have to be moved to reproduce the effect, and it wasn’t easy to pull off, but it wasn’t like the chair that moved by itself in the first season! It was just odd how they missed the obvious connection earlier, and then focused on something far more questionable.

Also odd is the dismissal of that shadow that appears out of nowhere at the front door, when everyone on the team is otherwise accounted for. Could it have been someone outside? Sure…but looking at that footage, I’m not at all convinced that the figure wasn’t inside that door. And that would have been a lot harder to explain.

So what do they conclude? As one would expect, they believe Myrtle’s Plantation is haunted. My problem with that? The evidence wasn’t as strong as it could have been, and it might give new viewers a false impression of how high Jason and Grant set the bar. Thankfully, it looks like the next episode will feature both a debunked case and a more active site.

Chill Factor: 7/10

Stargate: Atlantis 2.2: "The Intruder"

Written by Joseph Mallozzi and Paul Mullie
Directed by Peter DeLuise

In which the Daedalus comes under the control of a Wraith computer virus, while the Atlantis team returns home from Earth, where Weir found that her struggles are far from over…


After a season premiere that capped off a three-part action-driven epic, I think the writers were right to focus more on character. Two themes were evident as the episode marched on: “you can’t go home again” and “threats can come from unexpected directions”. A lot of the focus is on Weir and her struggles to keep control of the expedition, now that the political landscape on Earth has changed a bit and there’s more of an SGC presence.

The plot revolves around the potent threat posed by a Wraith virus left dormant in the Daedalus computer network during the previous episode and the efforts to eradicate it. As usual, it takes a while for everyone to recognize the scope of the danger and get a complete picture as to the solution. If there’s one thing that’s predictable in this episode, it’s the fact that if something can go horribly wrong, it will do so without fail and with a few choice snide comments from McKay!

As many have already noted (including the producers!), this is really just a variation on the “Stargate SG-1” episode “Entity”. Thankfully, this wasn’t a case of the writers cribbing old episodes without acknowledging the past. There’s something to be said when the characters recognize that it’s a familiar situation and respond accordingly!

This episode could have easily been centered on the return to Earth and the experiences of the characters. But the writers wisely recognized that this wouldn’t have served the story as well. Switching between the two themes, along with some action scenes to keep the episode moving, kept things from being too pedestrian.

The most obvious “intruder” in this episode is the Wraith virus itself, but that’s only in terms of the big picture. Taken from Weir’s perspective, there’s another, more personal threat: Caldwell. Caldwell has very clear ideas about how the operation should be run from a military perspective, and that’s a battle that Weir thought she had won. Now she’s dealing with someone with a lot less reason to follow her lead, since Caldwell is only weeks away from Earth and his command structure at any given time.

Many feel that the presence of Daedalus will detract from one of the primary elements of the series: the fact that the team has been isolated by the inability to return home to Earth. On the other hand, it’s still not a Sunday drive, and the past two episodes have provided a keen reminder that human technology, even mixed with Asgard enhancements, still doesn’t hold all the answers. Supplies and personnel might be more readily available, but for the most part, it’s just an ongoing source of dramatic conflict, since Weir can no longer assume that her authority remains as strong as it was.

More importantly, this episode makes the case that the team on Atlantis has lost some connection to the world they used to inhabit. Weir’s struggle with Simon and his new life says it all. The team on Atlantis was not unlike a division deployed to foreign front lines, with survival and return far from certain. They held a vision of the world they left behind in their minds, but it was an image of what was. In the meantime, people had to move on, assuming the worst. Weir learns that the hard way with Simon.

Along with getting him his promotion, Weir seems to be recognizing just how important Sheppard has become to her sense of control. Most importantly, Sheppard is part of her team; he’s experienced the same level of adversity, and he understands how the team must interact. He brings his military experience to the table, but he’s not some outside, inexperienced authority. Sheppard is going to be even more important to Weir in the episodes to come, and with Simon out of the picture, who can say what will happen?

There were the usual bits of humor, centered on McKay and Hermiod, which gave the episode its distinctly “Stargate” flavor. Sheppard continues to drop the O’Neill-esque one-liners, and while one continues to wonder if the man has ever owned a comb, he’s still one of the best parts of the series. Thankfully, it looks like Teyla is going to get some screen time in the next episode, since the few moments with her this season have been less than impressive.

Writing: 2/2
Acting: 2/2
Direction: 2/2
Style: 2/4

Final Rating: 8/10

Dead Zone 4.6: "The Last Goodbye"

Written by James Morris, Shintaro Shimosawa, and Steven Binder
Directed by Michael Robinson

In which Johnny discovers that a musician beloved by Sarah is still alive, despite a well-publicized death, and in the process of finding him, the two uncover more than they bargained for…


I didn’t really care for the last two episodes. This one is similar to the other two, but I found myself enjoying it more. It still had some of the same predictable weaknesses, especially in terms of investigating an apparent murder, but the framework of the story is a bit more personal. I find that the episodes dealing with Johnny’s personal life, in conjunction with his ability, rise above the more standard fare.

This could have easily been an episode about a random rock star’s son who Johnny just happens to catch in concert. Instead, the writers make the elder Foldes and his music an iconic part of Sarah’s history with Johnny. This could have easily imposed upon the existing mythos of that relationship, but instead, it adds another layer of meaning. Granted, it could have been grafted to the overall past history a bit more carefully, but the concept itself plays into the nostalgia that many children of the 1980s can relate to.

It’s rare for Johnny and Sarah to be on the same page this season, so it’s good to see them working together. Is this a sign that the writers are steering back into all-too-familiar territory? I certainly hope not. The Johnny/Sarah/Walt thing has run its course, and at this point, they need to settle into a stable equilibrium. The scenes with Walt seem to indicate that his fears have been largely addressed, despite the indiscretions of the past. Johnny, too, seems to have moved on.

Sarah’s comments, on the other hand, make her sound a lot more conflicted than she should be. But then, that could have a lot to do with the circumstances. Foldes and his music became, in her mind, something forever associated with Johnny and her life with him. There’s a metaphor at play between Foldes, his apparent death, his discovery, and Sarah’s relationship with Johnny. If Sarah equated Foldes’ death with the end of her relationship with Johnny, is his “resurrection” now dredging up emotions she thought she had resolved?

Even if that’s the case, it doesn’t have to be more than a wistful moment. Foldes returns to life, so to speak, but he has no intention of returning to his old life. Similarly, Sarah might be reminded of the depth of her love for Johnny, but she could also be reminding herself that their feelings for each other must evolve into close friendship.

Ben Foster seems to bring a true intensity to his roles, even if the “deeply conflicted” thing is getting a bit old. I truly disliked his character on “Six Feet Under”, and while I see a lot of the self-loathing in Darrin, at least he’s not so annoying. One actually believes that Darrin is this scarred inside, and that’s what Foster brings to the table.

What I didn’t like were all the plot holes. The gorgeous Audrey is stabbed in the back of the shoulder with a needle, and the coroner still concludes that it was an overdose! That’s the kind of plot convenience that drives me nuts. And given who killed Audrey in the first place, it’s hard to figure out who beat up the reporter. For that matter, who was Darrin’s mother? Some random groupie?

It’s the possible metaphor with Sarah that makes the episode work for me. It helps me set aside some of my issues with the predictability (I saw the killer’s identity coming a mile away) and the plot holes. As someone who grew up in the 1980s, I completely understand Sarah and Johnny’s point of view. Just look at how people react to the combination of Springsteen, the disappearing icons of the Jersey shore, and their relationships…it’s something everyone can relate to on some level. It’s still not as strong as I expect from earlier seasons, but it’s regaining momentum.

Writing: 1/2
Acting: 2/2
Direction: 2/2
Style: 2/4

Final Rating: 7/10

4400 2.7: "Carrier"

Written by Douglas Petrie
Directed by Leslie Libman

In which one of the 4400 discovers that her ability is to wipe out large populations by releasing a plague when she is agitated, while nearly everyone else deals with personal distractions…


This is the mid-point of the season already, sad to say, but the series has hit its stride. After a couple of episodes that took the story in completely unexpected directions, this episode settles back into the format that worked so well at the series’ inception. At the center of the tale is the discovery of a lethal 4400, but the real impact is what happens while everyone is running around on the job.

I happen to like that a lot better, especially now that the subplots are more interesting than the ones at the beginning of the season. No more endless road trips through the most bigoted regions of the Northwest, at least! Instead there’s more of a focus on how dealing with the 4400, on a personal level, is far more unusual than one can predict.

I’m glad that the writers didn’t assume that Alana was simply part of the gang now. Her integration is being handled nicely. I like the fact that her “knowledge” of Kyle has only served to demonstrate how much his condition has stolen away his choices. He’s just a lot more aware of it now. He also knows that he shot Collier, which the previous episode suggested would be discovered shortly. It’s a great place for Kyle’s character to be in at the dramatic mid-point of the season arc.

Sean’s travails are also strong narrative ground. It would have been easy to have him proceed with only a few token doubts, but the writers take the more difficult road. Adding a lobbyist with a personality and look very similar to Collier just adds to the tension. Now it’s not just a pseudo-religious movement; it’s also a movement with designs on steering political currency. I’m actually sad that the writers only have six more episodes this season, since this part of the story alone is worth spending hours exploring!

It was inevitable, perhaps, that April would try to use Maia as a gambling device. That was probably the most predictable part of the episode, because it centered more on genuine human emotion than the more fantastic elements of the series. April should have seen it coming a mile away…but then again, that’s inherent to her character. She’s so wrapped up in her own world that it’s easy for her to see Maia as a tool rather than as a person.

Not as interesting, but probably just as important in the long run, is this crush that Marco has on Diana. The writers seem to be trying to avoid the obvious Tom/Diana pairing by offering other possibilities (or quickly writing them into place). As disturbing as the whole Alana thing was, this is actually a lot more creepy. Marco is trying way to hard to get on Diana’s good side, and that fake diary is just asking to be discovered. Season finale, anyone?

The case this time was nerve-wracking on two levels: the modern fear of all things microbial, and the fear of unfettered religious zealotry. Jean Lynn Baker is about as mentally unstable as a person can be, so why would the “future humanity” give her the “ability” to unleash a “death field” through sores in her hand. Once more, the whole idea that the 4400 are preparing humanity for a better and brighter future is under question. (And any future that manages to make the lovely Sherilyn Fenn look so ragged can’t be 100% benign!)

Another strong episode with a relative minimum of predictable moments. Tom and Diana continue to be on paths that promise conflict down the road, and both are making choices to protect loved ones against their own abilities, good or bad. Sean is beginning to see how corrupted and corruptible the 4400 Movement can be. No wonder this is one of the most acclaimed genre series around!

Writing: 2/2
Acting: 2/2
Direction: 2/2
Style: 2/4

Final Rating: 8/10

Stargate SG-1 9.2: "Avalon: Part II"

Written by Robert C. Cooper
Directed by Andy Mikita

In which the team uncovers an Ancient communication artifact under Glastonbury Tor, and Daniel and Vala end up stuck in another galaxy where the Ancients went in a very different direction…


Picking up where the previous episode left off, this installment has all the hallmarks of being the second part of a trilogy. It resolves the immediate cliffhanger from the premiere and sets up the third and final part of the story. The scope of the season premiere as a whole is now a lot easier to appreciate. I like the fact that three episodes are being used to introduce the basis for the new status quo instead of just one; it gives the writers more time to establish a clear and present danger.

The resolution to the Ancients’ puzzles is fairly simple. I’m not sure I buy the idea of an Ancient, even Merlin, using Arabic numerals, but conceptually, it works well enough. The swordplay is a bit silly at times, but that’s probably intentional. Again, like the previous episode, Mitchell avoids being a clone of John Crichton, but there’s enough similarly between the two to let Ben Browder shine.

So the point is this, it seems: a device for long-range communication with other humans related to the Ancients is discovered, and Daniel uncovers the possibility that the Ancients originated from someplace other than Earth. (For some reason, I don’t remember that last bit being much of a question, but I could be mixing up my SF-TV mythologies.) I like the connection to “Citizen Joe” (an underrated commentary on fandom, I thought).

So the Ancients have a name now…Altera? And it seems that the Ancients that were hanging around the Milky Way/Pegasus galaxy region were more useful when they decided to ascend, because at least they weren’t demanding that their descendents worship them like gods! The suggestion seems to be that the Ori are Ascended who are all too happy to interfere. In other words, I expect them to be like a whole mess of beings like Anubis, but with absolutely no ties to the Goa’uld. Not a good thing!

I loved the immolation scene, because I never thought it would actually play out. Kudos to the writing team for going the extra mile! Sure, the whole religious extremism angle was covered plenty of times in the past, and there were some very familiar elements, but it was necessary to provide the framework for how the Ori had manipulated the situation. Vala’s resurrection was also important to establishing the Ori as manipulative. (This kind of new direction for the mythology, based in the old but exploring new ground, is exactly what “X-Files” failed to do.)

Speaking of Vala, she was a lot less annoying this time around. I think it was because the writers didn’t feel the need to smack us over the head with her personality. It’s out there, it’s established…time to move on and just let it happen. Dr. Lam should prove to be an interesting “replacement” for Janet after all this time, and I like the fact that there’s a relationship (father and daughter, I reckon) with Landry. It adds to the potential drama.

The only thing that doesn’t quite work so far is the ongoing process of isolating Teal’c from the Jaffa High Council. So much is happening off-screen that it’s hard to get a good feel for it. I hope that the next episode culminates in something a bit more definitive than Teal’c deciding, off-screen, to rejoin SG-1. The best way to revitalize the series is to continue focus on the characters and several ongoing, inter-connected plot threads.

I’m still trying to figure out how the whole Merlin/Avalon thing led into the Altera/Ori thing, but it feels like the kind of unexpected direction that the plot would have taken in earlier seasons. Then again, if the writers were looking to smooth over the obvious goal of introducing the Ori, this is about as organic a way of doing as I can think of. The writers had to sell a lot to the fans, and while I’m sure it didn’t work for everyone, it’s a strong case for a renewed sense of purpose.

Writing: 2/2
Acting: 2/2
Direction: 2/2
Style: 2/4

Final Rating: 8/10

Battlestar Galactica 2.2: "Valley of Darkness"

Written by Bradley Thompson and David Weddle
Directed by Michael Rymer

In which Cylons infiltrate Galactica, slaughtering the crew and forcing a desperate defense, while the survivors on Kobol deal with mounting losses and Baltar struggles with his loyalties…


This week continues the slow but steady exploration of all the craziness from the first season finale, and I couldn’t be happier. There’s no shortage of body count or red-shirts, and the stakes continue to rise as none of the adversaries, human or otherwise, seem ready to let threats from the outside get in the way of a grudge.

It would have been so easy for Tigh and Lee to bury the hatchet and let the whole business over the president be bygones. At least, I would have expected that from some other series. The writers didn’t disappoint me, because instead of taking the easy way out, they were only civil to one another while their goals were temporarily aligned. They didn’t discuss it outright or go into detail about it after the fact. They worked together when convenient, and then naturally acted like it never happened.

Speaking of the boarding party, I’m glad that there wasn’t some major lag between the end of the previous episode and the continuation of hostilities. I’m also very happy that the Cylon virus didn’t simply disappear. Consequences are everything on this show, and everything that happens in this episode is a consequence of poor command decisions in the premiere. It’s hard to think about that as the stakes get higher with every passing moment; quite literally, they brought the siege upon themselves.

The real question is whether or not the virus is going to continue to be a problem in the future. Wouldn’t it be fun to see Adama asking Tigh, in that low but deadly voice, why there’s a Cylon virus running around a bunch of systems that were never supposed to be connected? Like the previous episode, this is an ongoing commentary into the weaknesses of Tigh, and it’s not pretty. The man may be holding a grudge in realistic fashion, but it still doesn’t make it a good choice!

Events on Kobol seem more and more like a way to put the screws to Baltar and whatever allegiance he may retain to humanity. Those visions once again seem metaphorical, though it’s hard to tell with this series. Specific or otherwise, Baltar doesn’t just believe that a hybrid is necessary, but that humanity (embodied by the most threatening of humans) is the enemy of that necessary future. Step by step, Baltar is being conditioned into the perfect weapon against humanity.

I have the sinking feeling that the writers are slowly but surely wiping out the survivors on Kobol so that at some point before the remaining few are rescued, one of the better known characters will die. They’re simply running out of red-shirts down there! Six’s warning is just vague enough to make it possible that everyone but Baltar will die, but then again, it’s impossible to know if she’s saying all of that as part of the conditioning.

One thing that I didn’t quite get, from a story perspective, were the scenes on Caprica. They seemed out of place, though it was probably necessary to explain how Starbuck and Helo manage to get around in the following episodes. Was there a point to those scenes, though, beyond that plot element? It was some minor insight into Starbuck’s character, but at the moment, it doesn’t seem all that important in relation to the rest of the episode.

On the other hand, though, those scenes did give me a chance to breathe between the scenes on Galactica and Kobol, so I suppose they served that purpose. Overall, this was another fine installment. I really love how all these plot threads continue to move forward, bit by bit, and the writers don’t feel the need to bash the audience over the head with explicit meaning. The story is what it is, and the audience is invited along for the ride.

Writing: 2/2
Acting: 2/2
Direction: 2/2
Style: 2/4

Final Rating: 8/10

X-Files 5.9: "Schizogeny"

Written by Jessica Scott and Mike Woolaeger
Directed by Ralph Hemeckler

In which Mulder and Scully investigate the mysterious death of a supposedly abusive father, only to discover that they have come to a town where nature seems to be under someone’s control…


Status Report

This is one of those episodes that can be easily dismissed. It has very little to do with the rest of the series as a whole, there’s not much in the way of overt character development, and Scully is practically sidelined for no apparent reason. There’s also the little matter of a confusing plot with killer trees. But a closer look reveals an interesting and even meaningful concept close to the heart of the mythology.

At first glance, the plot is bizarre. In this particular town, apparently abusive fathers are getting killed. It turns out that trees are doing it, something only Mulder seems to understand. This is tied to a blight on the trees that last came 20 years earlier. The kids whose fathers were killed were undergoing therapy with a disturbed, previously abused woman whose father mysteriously died 20 years earlier. Her consuming hatred, it seems, resulted in a final psychotic break, which somehow got the trees all freaky again.

It’s hard to know if the writers themselves knew what they were trying to suggest. Some episodes are put together with little more than a high concept like “Trees kill people!”. But there’s also a commentary on abuse in this particular case, and everything centers around Karin Matthews. The question is: how did Karin turn into the person seen in this episode, and how did that translate into the events depicted?

The writers aren’t saying that terribly abused individuals are all capable of making the world around them animate and murderous. Karin is depicted as a woman filled with a unique brand of continual rage, triggered by the fact that she has attempted to overcome it by teaching others how to defeat anything that challenges their self-esteem.

As the episode progresses, it’s more and more apparent that Karin is in some way “possessed” by her father. Psychologically, it’s as if she obsessed so much over her hatred for her father’s power over her that she stopped questioning it. It become a reality that she could never overcome, and thus the cycle perpetuated until some element of her father’s abusive personality manifested itself in her own mind.

But two things were also tied to Karin’s history: the timing of the blight afflicting the trees and the death of Karin’s father. The death of Karin’s father seemed to end the previous blight, just as it’s suggested that the current blight is the result of Karin’s father’s personality emerging in her mind. The suggestion is that Karin’s father was the one bringing the blight, but is that the logical conclusion?

In the lore of the paranormal, poltergeist activity is often related to young or teenage girls who are emotionally volatile, yet can’t express themselves openly. If one takes that concept and expands on it, while also giving it focus, it could easily apply to Karin. At the height of each abuse cycle, her unchecked and unexpressed rage afflicts the trees that define her world, and in turn, her will animates them as depicted. It gets to the point where Karin transfers her memories onto the children, so as to create the justification for the rage.

In terms of the mythology, there’s the concept of “sentinels” like Albert Hosteen and Scully, humans with a genetic predisposition to interact with the spiritual, consciously or subconsciously. (In terms of the mythology, these are the people with the latent abilities needed to defeat Purity.) Karin could have been one of these “sentinels”. But instead of growing into her abilities (or having them remain latent), the physical and psychological abuse from her father resulted in a premature and violent outlet of power.

The other side to that, however, is the possibility of being subsumed by a stronger non-corporeal intelligence. In earlier episodes, malevolent intelligences had taken over those with a fractured sense of identity. Twenty years earlier, Karin’s rage had led to her father’s death. What if his personality was so powerful that it remained intact enough to plague Karin. One could then speculate that when Karin chose to enter the counseling profession, thinking that she could help others avoid her kind of childhood and emotional issues, the resulting explosion of rage allowed her father to take control (psychologically and spiritually), triggering another subconscious release of power into the environment.

This is the situation that Mulder and Scully find themselves in, and it’s not pretty or entirely sensible out of context. This is a case where the agents are reacting to the symptoms, and because they do not understand the scope of the system, they can only guess at the source of the pain and suffering. Events take place that are outward expressions of something distinctly spiritual.

Taken from this perspective, it’s a question of whether or not the various elements fit within the context in a logical manner. For the most part, they do. There are still some oddities that make the episode less than perfect, but from a conceptual point of view, the events are not nearly as bizarre and contrived as they first appear. It all comes down to considering how the universe of “X-Files” is meant to work, given how broad the “extreme possibilities” canvas can be.

It’s not entirely clear how Mulder and Scully become involved in the case in the first place. The timing is particularly odd. The season premiere took place in October 1997. “Detour” took place sometime in November 1997. The next in-continuity episode, “Christmas Carol” (along with “Emily”) took place in late December 1997 through early January 1998. “Kitsunegari” was logically a week or so later in the timeline, so this episode is probably mid-January 1998. From a timeline point of view, the suggestion is that Mulder and Scully are still on relatively “light” duty, following Scully’s return to the field and the fallout from Mulder’s little showdown with Blevins. So this case was probably assigned and assumed to be routine.

There’s also the little matter of the portrayal of Bobby and Lisa. Granted, these are supposed to be troubled children with psychological hang-ups the size of Michigan, but they act like they’re perpetually stoned. Bobby’s affections are incredibly annoying in particular. Then again, that kind of look wasn’t the norm, and Bobby would play up his personality to overcome the fact that he was a constant target.

Some attempt is made to establish a rebellious phase in Mulder’s own childhood. Mulder refers to the fact that Bobby could have been him. While it’s easy enough to imagine that Mulder’s childhood was dominated by a psychologically damaging father and a disconnected mother, it’s hard to see Mulder as the rebellious type. Mulder rebels against authority only when the structure prevents him from getting the answers he needs to fulfill his mandate. His response to his parents would have been closer to immersing himself in his academics than heavy drug use.

Fairly early in the episode, it’s obvious that Karin is involved. Oddly enough, it takes the agents forever to figure that out. It’s more a question of character missing details, and the plot being forced in directions necessary to allow that to happen. Scully might as well not even be in the episode; she’s there only to present a foil to Mulder’s evolving assumptions and speculations. Her own interpretations are completely suppressed, and no reason is given for it. She gets to be tough with Bobby in front of the class with the chemistry teacher that doesn’t know chemistry (check the blackboard), but that’s about it.

For instance, why does the coroner completely miss the obvious chunk of wood sticking out of the victim’s neck, and why is Mulder the one making the observation? All things being equal, that’s usually Scully’s shtick. Mulder makes the typical leap regarding the source of the “splinter”, but Scully doesn’t even try to give an alternative explanation. There’s the “plot device with an axe”, who actually turns out to be the resolution to the case. (And if there’s a major issue with this episode, that’s the issue: the agents don’t really bring about the resolution.)

Lisa’s predicament is a direct consequence of an incredibly stupid decision on her part. She knows something is going on in the house, so why walk into a dark basement without at least putting the light on? Why not try to break the window and get the hell out of the house? Why wait to break the window and call for help until after the agents are gone and Defenseless Aunt arrives?

Mulder and Scully aren’t much better. There’s one scene in which they discuss an issue, standing in the middle of a rainstorm, shouting to hear each other over the noise…and they are completely dry the entire time. They drive up to Karin’s house and completely miss the rather large body sitting on the side of the house. They walk into the house and the basement without even trying to put the lights on. External to the basic concept and its complications, the storytelling breaks down as the episode marches on.

Perhaps the most obvious flaw in the concept of Karin subconsciously manipulating the world around her is the ending itself. Once Karin was dead, what or who would continue that manipulation? One could suppose that it’s Karin herself, or whatever is left of her viable personality, but that’s weak with respect to the idea that a violent death equates to a fractured non-corporeal existence. And while it makes sense that Mulder wouldn’t understand what had happened, his final voiceover suggests a confidence in his conclusions that masks the underlying concept.

As far as the presentation as a whole, the episode is visually evocative. This is paced more like a feature film or a true anthology series installment. This could have been lifted out of a superior “Outer Limits” episode. Unfortunately, that is also one of the drawbacks of the episode: Mulder and Scully bring nothing of themselves to the case. Very little makes it necessary for these characters specifically to tell the story. As interesting as the concept is, it just wasn’t integrated into the series well enough.


Memorable Quotes

MULDER: “Hey, Scully, is this demonstration of boyish agility turning you on at all?”


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode had an interesting concept, tied indirectly to some of the deeper mysteries of the mythology, but the execution made it hard to comprehend. The episode is visually stunning, but the treatment of the characters doesn’t quite fit with Mulder and Scully. Filled with odd inconsistencies, this is definitely not one of the better episodes of the season.

Writing: 0/2
Acting: 1/2
Direction: 2/2
Style: 1/4

Final Rating: 4/10

Angel 1.16: "The Ring"

Written by Howard Gordon
Directed by Nick Marck

In which Angel is taken captive by human brothers who run an illegal demon bloodsport ring, where he tries to foment a revolt while Wesley and Cordy work to rescue him…


Status Report

If there’s a list of staple plot devices for genre television shows, the “illegal bloodsport story” ranks fairly high. This is especially true when the writers are looking for someone to play Spartacus within some engineered gladiator game. The success of such an episode is typically dependent on the level of subtext. Even when the story works well, there’s a feeling that the writers didn’t try so hard. Even shows like “Babylon 5”, hailed for their multi-layered storytelling, fail to make such episodes viable.

In this case, the issue is one of an illegal fighting ring, where demons are forced to fight to the death for the pleasure of the upscale crowd. This is interesting on a few levels. Consider that this means that some of the biggest movers and shakers in the Los Angeles area are aware of the existence of demons and willing to use them to their own advantage. Wolfram and Hart is ostensibly the legal representative firm for the majority (if not all) of the clients.

This being a Howard Gordon episode, the concern is whether or not there’s a strong enough execution of the concept. Gordon is, typically, a good idea man with a spotty track record in terms of implementing those ideas. This one wasn’t even his idea to begin with, so it would have taken a lot of effort and depth to overcome the familiar and well-trodden plot threads. Unfortunately, that’s not the case.

The whole set-up is just a little too obvious. Darin is obviously setting Angel up for some kind of fall. The real question is why Angel was targeted by the Macnamaras. It might have been interesting if Wolfram and Hart had decided that Angel might be an issue, and decided that the ring was a good place to either corrupt or eliminate a potential enemy. Unfortunately, the script wasn’t even that complicated.

One aspect that works well (at least from a comedic perspective) is the website: “Demons, Demons, Demons”. That’s just simple enough to be inspired. The idea of a web-based demon bestiary is damned funny, and it probably inspired a lot of fans to check the web to see if there was a mocked-up webpage!

As one would expect, once Angel is in the clutches of the evil Macnamaras, a couple of clichés are trotted out: the brutal champion (Val Trepkos), the bully (Cribb), and the meek victim (Malish). Angel quickly defends the victim against the bully, as every would-be Spartacus must. The victim gets angry at Angel for fighting his battles, even though it’s obvious that he can’t fight his own. When the victim is matched against the champion, of course, even the bully has a measure of sympathy.

This episode at least continues the evolution of Wesley as a character. He’s still occasionally bumbling in his choices, but he’s developing an edge. He does a great job with the bookie, for instance, employing some down and dirty methods to get the information he needs. It’s a welcome change, especially since it presages his more casual violent side in the later seasons.

Angel’s decision not to fight his opponent is a convenient way for the writers to toss out the rules of the game. It also gives Wesley and Cordy some time to arrive on the scene and demonstrate how well they are beginning to gel. It’s not so much the bickering of a married couple as the sparring between siblings. Angel makes for an interesting father figure, but in essence, that’s the role he’s taken. That said, one has to wonder how Wesley knows about the ongoing demon pit fights when they were a complete surprise to Angel; exposition, it seems, can be a cruel mistress!

If there is one scene that actually breaks away from the conventional, it’s the scene where Angel takes Jack hostage. Angel is shocked to discover that the demons aren’t willing to fight for their freedom. The suggestion is that they are willing to kill to be free, and that the “live and let live” alternative doesn’t hold much weight. Equally surprising is Darin’s decision to kill Jack rather than let the demons go. The Macnamaras were already on the same level as the demons they enslave, but in that moment, Darin sets himself apart.

This represents the first real attempt by Wolfram and Hart to subvert Angel’s crusade to their own devices. Taken in retrospect with the fifth season and its explanation for the goals of the firm, this makes perfect sense. If Angel were to agree to the arrangement, then he would effectively be allowing the apocalypse to continue unabated. This is why it would have made more sense for Lilah to be the one behind Angel’s capture from the beginning, rather than someone taking advantage after the fact.

There is, however, a completely predictable result: Angel is scheduled to fight the champion (as he surely must), and of course, it’s the champion’s last fight towards earning his freedom. Thus it boils down to what one would expect: will Angel be able to convince the champion to risk his life for others, or will the champion stick to what he knows? The answer is not exactly original, since it always turns out that the champion initially sticks with the rules, until something happens to convince him (during the fight, of course) to change his mind.

Equally predictable is Angel’s apparent victory, wiped away when he refuses to kill Trepkos, unwilling to give in to the demands of the game. Trepkos, of course, regains the advantage, only to find himself unwilling to deliver the killing blow when his victory is assured. Just at that moment, Wesley and Cordy’s lock-pick triggers a mass revolt. Darin is dealt justice through his own method of discipline, and the crisis is over. There’s even time for a moment of comic reflection, but by then, the audience is wondering whether it was worth it.


Memorable Quotes

WESLEY: “For your information, I lead a rich and varied social life.”
CORDY: “Oh, I know…every night it’s ‘Jeopardy’ followed by ‘Wheel of Fortune’ and a cup of hot cocoa. Look out, girls, this one can’t be tamed!”
WESLEY: “I’ll admit it may not be as intoxicating as a life erected on high fashion pumps and a push-up bra!”

ANGEL: “Come on, Darin! We both know there’s only one way to let this play out. So let’s just get it done. He’s your brother.”
DARIN: “Now he’s my dead brother.”


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode was a far cry from the quality of the previous installment. Beyond introducing Lilah Morgan, this episode has little meaning in the scheme of things. Howard Gordon delivers a predictable and tired script with very few surprises. There’s some nice growth in the relationship with Wesley and Cordy, but it’s too little of what the episode needed.

Writing: 1/2
Acting: 2/2
Direction: 1/2
Style: 0/4

Final Rating: 4/10

Dead Zone 4.5: "Heroes and Demons"

Written by Michael Taylor
Directed by James Head

In which Johnny is contacted by an autistic boy who finds a way to communicate, seeking Johnny’s help to prove that his father, on death row, is an innocent man…


Like the previous episode, there’s a feeling that the writers are struggling to find the hook into each new story. Having played with most of the obvious variations on psychic murder mysteries, the writers seem to be struggling to keep the series from slipping into a serial mode in terms of the mythology. As much as I like the overarching concepts of the story and how it diverges from the original novel, I wonder if the writers need to take advantage of the large episode order (a total of 20-22, IIRC) to delve into the Stilson mythos.

My wife happens to work as a teacher in a “second chance” school for behaviorally challenged children. Since many of those children have a mild form of autism called Asperger’s, she’s been taking the necessary training and extended educational courses to understand the condition. She also has a cousin with a form of autism. The bottom line is that she is often skeptical of how the condition is treated in the media, and in this case, in her opinion, the pattern holds. (Yes, I know that she’s not an expert, but she knows more than I do on the subject and so I defer to her on this one.)

This episode is no better at portraying the intricacies of autism, since inevitably, story concerns trump reality. Frankly, realistic depictions of autism would be incredibly frustrating and boring. This is inevitably where Johnny comes into the picture, since his ability can cut through the communication barrier to a certain degree. But the writers can’t get over the fact that the information would be nearly impossible to interpret, so a consistent rationale is established.

I’m not sure that I liked the whole Tolkien-esque fantasy theme. The opening sequence neatly incorporated elements of the opening to “Fellowship of the Ring” and Galadriel’s monologue, right down to a bit of Elvish. It communicated the idea that Thaddeus is completely immersed in his interpretation of the world. But that’s something I found hard to accept: how could a child so focused on that frame of reference manage to travel on his own without anyone raising an eyebrow.

The story requires Thaddeus to be a silent witness to events critical to his father’s survival. Therefore one would have to accept that the child was regularly following his father around and basically interacting with the world on enough of a level to accomplish perfect surveillance. Yet it’s also made clear that the child was often completely unable to interact with his father. Apparently, this is possible with autism, but funny how it also happens to serve the exact needs of the story.

Perhaps it’s just that episodes centered on autistic children are troublesome for me, based on the personal angle. I’ll admit that possibility. I will say that the young actor who played Thaddeus did a very good job. But that final scene, where Thaddeus opens up to his father? It rubbed me wrong. It seemed a bit too dishonest, designed purely for the emotional payoff. It broke the spell, in a sense, created by the concept of a child with so many challenges accomplishing something profound. I thought it would have been far better to have Thaddeus’ father simply recognize that his son loves him dearly, even if he can’t express it directly.

I don’t want to make it sound like that’s the only problem I had with the episode. I found the “mystery” to be rather predictable as a whole. I immediately guessed that the partner was the true crooked cop (isn’t that always the way it goes?), and that made the rest something of an exercise. If I had enjoyed the shift in perspective a bit more, the predictable elements might have been less annoying. But as it stands, I simply didn’t like the episode.

One aspect, quite apart from the story itself, is the music. I actually like the new theme, because after the initial disappointment, I let it slip past my defenses. But the music within the episode has been spotty at best, and this time around, it really got on my nerves. Television scoring is largely done by computer these days, and sometimes, it’s all too obvious. (Early “Stargate SG-1” episodes were particularly guilty of destroying a fine episode with cloying synthetic music.)

It’s way too early into the season to be worried about a decline in quality, especially when this is an episode that might simply be ranking low for purely personal reasons. But I’m still holding out hope that the next episode will reach my expectations!

Writing: 1/2
Acting: 2/2
Direction: 2/2
Style: 0/4

Final Rating: 5/10

4400 2.6: "Life Interrupted"

Written by Ira Steven Behr
Directed by Michael Watkins

In which Tom finds himself in a world where the 4400 were apparently never abducted, but when his “wife” remembers being an abductee, the truth turns out to be more than he imagined…


Every so often, a series will begin with a well-worn plot device and end up in completely unexpected territory. Moments like those remind us why we love the show in the first place. When I was watching the trailer and first act of this episode, I thought I had it all figured out. I knew Alana had to be planting that fantasy world into Tom’s head, but never for a second did I consider that it might be something more than an individual action.

What’s great is that the episode doesn’t start off in “reality”. It begins in the fantasy world and continues to progress from there, right to the decision point. Ironically, I mentioned in my comments for the last episode that I wanted to get a better idea of how Tom’s role was supposed to play out. Sure enough, the writers were one step ahead of me. Instead of following up a huge episode with something predictable, they drop down an episode that is clearly important to the series and its mythology.

One thing this episode touches on, at least tangentially, is the concept of “consensual reality”. The fantasy world that Tom inhabits through most of the episode is not internally consistent. There’s no way that NTAC would let him back in the field if he were still showing signs of instability. He certainly wouldn’t be given a gun! The point was to get him to where the door is, so his mind could absorb that piece of information. As Alana says later in the episode: if he were to reject what was being given to him, he would prove that he wasn’t the right man for the job.

One of the most difficult things to do on a series is building a loving relationship. It usually takes a very long time, or methods of storytelling that skip over that time. It’s nearly impossible to have a relationship just appear out of thin air. And yet, that’s exactly what the writers have accomplished. Tom and Alana are given a nearly perfect relationship, complete with a shared sense of how things ought to have been, and that gives them an instant rapport. Tom doesn’t have to go through the process of explaining all his problems to someone new.

This ought to play out very nicely over the rest of the season. Things are about to get traumatic for Tom, and he’s going to want to turn to Alana for support time and again. She’ll be there, as planned by “the future humanity”, to serve that function and keep him on task. But how will the others in Tom’s world react to the idea of this sudden, fully functional relationship? At what point will NTAC begin wondering whether Tom is acting of his own accord?

And that brings up an interesting possible parallel with Kyle. Some have speculated (and I happen to agree) that Kyle might be receiving ongoing “instructions” from “the future humanity”, all part of a kind of maintenance program for the plan involving the 4400. Something needs to be done, Tom hasn’t done it in a timely fashion…Kyle is utilized. Isn’t using Alana and her ability essentially the same sort of thing? Using Tom against his will?

In a way, that says a lot about “the future humanity” and the intention of sending back the 4400. They say it’s for the betterment of the future. But their methods leave much to be desired, and if they used questionable ethics in creating and maintaining the 4400, why assume that their end goal is any less questionable? What if the evidence begins to suggest that the 4400 were seeded back into humanity for a malevolent purpose, and Tom and Diana are placed in even more conflict with NTAC?

A lot of the imagery was very creepy, especially the representation of the facility where “the future humanity” (I really have to think of a better name) altered the abductees. The writers took a risk by focusing so completely on a few characters and one plot thread, but it fundamentally alters Tom and changes the status quo completely. Not only that, but I had no idea what the twist would be, and that it would turn out to have so many layers of potential consequences. This is already one of my favorite episodes, if only because it demonstrates that the format can be altered successfully.

Writing: 2/2
Acting: 2/2
Direction: 2/2
Style: 3/4

Final Rating: 9/10

X-Files 5.8: "Kitsunegari"

Written by Vince Gilligan and Tim Minear
Directed by Daniel Sackheim

In which Robert Modell escapes from prison and those responsible for his defeat begin dying, but when the investigation proceeds, Mulder believes the killings are from a different suspect…


Status Report

After an “introduction” phase that eschewed stand-alone episodes for mythology and character development (and even some “non-canon” fare), the writers return to the well for a few episodes while working out where to go next. With the series at its critical peak, especially in terms of the popular culture, there must have been some desire to touch on the themes and concepts that were popular in season past.

According to Tim Minear, the story editor for the most acclaimed period in the series’ history, the original story concept was something more in tune with “Millennium”: a serial killer who escapes prison, supposedly on the “word of God”, to stop someone else from committing murders. The idea was to have Mulder go against his own instincts and believe in the killer’s conversion, because the evidence would suggest that the “word of God” was in fact real. Scully, on the other hand, would find herself denying something that her faith insists as possible and miraculous.

That episode could have fit rather easily into the mythology of the series, especially since divine intervention has been on the agents’ side since the very beginning. Instead, Vince Gilligan suggested that the character of Robert Modell, the antagonist from “Pusher”, be cast in the role of the killer. Thus his motivations change dramatically: it’s not the “word of God” that matters, but rather, his knowledge of a sibling who has decided to kill in his name.

Right away, this introduces complications. Modell was supposed to be dying and permanently out of commission. He was also completely unrepentant. It’s interesting to note that the writers avoid this little problem by giving no explanation whatsoever for Modell’s change of heart. Nor is it at all clear how Modell learned of his sister’s plans to exact revenge. Since the episode begins with Modell’s escape from prison, there’s not even an indication that Linda Bowman contacted Modell with hints of what was to come.

Character motivation is everything, so when the writers force Modell into the mold that Minear originally cast, it doesn’t fit very well. As the meeting with the marshals suggests, Modell’s mindset was firmly established in “Pusher”. Referring to that gives the audience reason to suspect Modell and thus generate conflict when Mulder believes differently, but the seeds of Modell’s motivations should have been intact. They are not intact, and as a result, the episode never quite comes together the way it should.

It also seems odd that Mulder would emphasize the dangers of dealing with Modell, only to ignore his own advice several times over the course of the episode. Mulder is used to placing his own life on the line for his theories, but this is a bit ridiculous.

The plot is so thin that there’s no hidden meaning in Modell’s desire to contact Mulder. He’s trying to warn everyone about his sister, apparently out of a desire to get to her first and convince her to stop the killing. That’s literally the extent of the story. All of the important and ground-breaking character work in “Pusher”, the real reason that episode was so popular, is missing. Instead, the writers place Mulder and Scully at odds, apparently on the hopes that the episode will culminate in a compelling confrontation.

There are some interesting images along the way. “Death by house paint” is a particularly memorable image, and one must admit that “kitsunegari” is inspired, never mind Scully shooting herself in the head. Bowman’s slow and methodical use of the “push” to induce Modell’s death is a great use of the ability.

But then there’s the list of things that aren’t so impressive. Bowman’s hint-laden conversation with Mulder is somewhat silly, since Mulder is forced to pin his suspicions on those hints and it only serves the purpose of getting him off the case. Even after Mulder’s theory becomes more tenable, the writers make sure that Mulder and Scully are at each other’s throats.

The worst flaw of the episode is the final confrontation. Mulder is lead to the address where Bowman is apparently waiting for him. Bowman has apparently staged this little event to ensure that Mulder kills Scully, under the belief that Scully is Bowman and that Scully has already been “pushed” into killing herself. There’s just one problem with that. Why would Scully have gone to the building where Bowman is waiting for Mulder? Scully doesn’t believe Mulder at all, and there’s nothing to indicate that Mulder shared the address that he found on the back of the “Nurse” badge.

More importantly, this is the easy way out. Instead of having Mulder and Scully threaten each other against their will, like in “Pusher”, it comes across as a random act of revenge. Nothing that happened up to that point in the episode was building to that confrontation. It’s just a bit too conveniently staged and there’s not enough explanation surrounding the whole event. In the end, Bowman’s existence doesn’t have the same impact as Modell’s.

The final scene is meant to bring the events into some kind of focus, as if Mulder’s near-killing of Scully was somehow his responsibility. Granted, he went hunting after Bowman on his own, and that led to the confrontation, but that was largely Skinner’s fault for isolating Mulder in the first place. It would have been more logical, however, for Mulder to wait for Bowman to come for him. If he really believed that Bowman wanted revenge, then he would have realized that Bowman only killed when it served that purpose. Mulder could have waited for Bowman to make a move out of impatience, and it would have been over.

What this episode lacks is a sense of depth. The story is relatively thin, and the events just happen as one would expect. Sure, the writers make Modell out to be the villain, but once Mulder draws his conclusion, it’s rather obvious that Bowman will be the true enemy. The character work of “Pusher” is completely absent, and that makes all the difference. Add to that a few plot conveniences, and this is an episode that doesn’t quite match the potential of either writer.

Ironically, Tim Minear would move on and begin working with Joss Whedon, who would use a very different storytelling method with “Buffy”, “Angel”, and “Firefly”. Minear would deliver some of the best episodes of his career while working on those series, and his post-“Mutant Enemy” work has been equally impressive. One can only assume that he learned what not to do when working with Chris Carter and 1013.


Memorable Quotes

SCULLY: “A serial killer makes us believe that he’s guilty, in turn diverting the suspicion away the real estate lady…well, he had me going…”


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode was a disappointing sequel to one of the most popular episodes of the series. Bringing back Modell for this story was an ill-advised attempt to capitalize on impressions of continuity, especially since the character aspects of “Pusher” were completely absent this time around. It’s hard to believe that Vince and Tim, both strong writers on their own, were responsible for this material.

Writing: 1/2
Acting: 2/2
Direction: 1/2
Style: 0/4

Final Rating: 4/10

Stargate SG-1 9.1: "Avalon: Part I"

Written by Robert C. Cooper
Directed by Andy Mitika

In which Lt. Col. Cameron Mitchell is assigned to lead SG-1, but he is less than pleased when he finds the original team dissolved, especially when an old adversary comes calling…


As I was watching this season premiere, I was struck by the overwhelming touch of the familiar. It wasn’t just the return of a certain energy to the storytelling. It wasn’t just the welcome return of Ben Browder and Claudia Black to my television screen. It was the feeling that I had during the eighth season of “X-Files”, when the producers sought to continue that series once David Duchovny decided he was done with the show.

Robert Patrick was brought in as a new character (John Doggett) and immediately the fandom was fractured into two warring camps: those who wanted the series to end without Duchovny, and those who wanted to see where the writers could take things with a new character in the mix. The ratings took a predictable drop, and even now, the overwhelming opinion is that it was a mistake. Yet that masks something that many fans have since discovered on their own: the final seasons of “X-Files” were hardly the universal horribleness that some Duchovny adherents insisted.

There will inevitably be those who bemoan the fact that Jack O’Neill is no longer a mainstay of the series. True, he was the heart of the team for several seasons, but it’s been a while since he’s been truly a presence. He was reduced to a few snide (often lame) comments here and there, and at times, he was visibly bored. Browder looks anything but bored, and he has an equally strong comedic pedigree. If this episode is any indication, he understands the series’ inherent mixture of the serious and self-aware absurd and plays it to the hilt. There are shades of John Crichton in Mitchell, but the characters are distinct enough to allow the familiar to inform the unique.

Vala, however, is a more troubling character. Claudia Black certainly plays the character with relish, and it’s clear that she enjoys being sexy without apology. The corseted wardrobe definitely doesn’t hurt! But she sometimes plays the character too over the top, crossing the line that her initial appearance tred so carefully. Given how serious the episode was at the beginning, Vala’s antics brought the episode back towards the hilarity a bit too quickly. It’s still a lot of fun to see Claudia again, though, and she serves the necessary purpose of driving characters who were logically growing apart back onto the team.

Speaking of that necessity, I love the fact that the team is split up when the episode begins. It would strain credibility beyond all measure for the end of the eighth season to not result in a fractured team. It’s perfect to begin with the new commander and the new general. It’s still a hard break from the old regime, but it avoids the cliché of “passing the torch”. Landry is thankfully very different from Hammond or O’Neill. I’m still not sure what I think of him, but I didn’t immediately hate his guts, so it’s a better start that I was expecting!

With all the focus on the new characters, it’s almost jarring when Daniel and T’ealc return to the story. Daniel’s involvement is perhaps more logical, thanks to his character’s relationship with Vala; T’ealc feels like he was forced into the story. Amanda’s “delicate condition” thankfully makes her return a bit more protracted, giving the writers the chance to make that a more organic process. I’m not loving Daniel’s beard, but hey, it’s better than that thing that bonded to T’ealc’s chin a few seasons back!

As for the story itself: typically half-cheesy, especially the Merlin stuff. “Stargate” has always embraced its own inherent absurdity, reveling in the fact that the whole “mythological” motif was a bit over the top at times. Yet it makes perfect sense, within the context of the series, for Merlin to have been related to the Ancients and Avalon to have a real-world meaning. It can be goofy, but that’s part of the charm (at least for me!).

This is apparently the first part of a three part premiere, which means that there’s a lot still to be revealed. The writers are taking their time with things, and hopefully, I’m not the only one willing to see what they can so with fresh blood. As much as I admit that “SG-1” has always been about a core team of people, the series has enough legs to it to bring in new cast members and still survive. Unless, of course, the fans aren’t willing to go along for the ride.

Writing: 2/2
Acting: 2/2
Direction: 2/2
Style: 2/4

Final Rating: 8/10

Stargate: Atlantis 2.1: "The Siege: Part III"

Written by Martin Gero
Directed by Martin Wood

In which the arrival of the Daedalus helps Atlantis repel the Wraith’s initial attack, but the situation gets much worse when they send reinforcements and something goes wrong with Lt. Ford…


Before I go any further, I just have to have a moment of silence for the first season opening theme. I’m not sure why SFC decided to chop it down and remove the inspiring and memorable music, but I suspect it had something to do with adding commercial time. (Networks do silly things like that and pretend it doesn’t matter.)

I liked how it started right where it left off, and for the most part, the transitions were seamless. In fact, I was left wondering if the entire first act hadn’t been the original final act for the first season finale. Bear with me…wouldn’t that have actually been a logical place to end the series, if SFC had pulled a “Farscape” on it? It’s like the rest of the episode was somewhat tacked on to the original ending. I didn’t think it was bad, but there was a slight different feel to it after the first act. Very strange.

I think the addition of the Daedalus to the series will be a good thing. “SG-1” was always introducing new technology to the mix as the series went on, and having something bigger than a puddle jumper around is going to come in handy. It also adds an “outside” military presence to the series, which ought to play nicely against the group led by Sheppard. There are now several groups with very different levels of experience with the Wraith and the status quo of the Pegasus Galaxy, and that ought to be fun for the writers to play with!

I’m not sure what to think of Mitch Pileggi’s role yet. Supposedly it’s only going to be a recurring role, which I think would be unfortunate. For one thing, the man needs work! But he also needs a chance to get out of the chair and develop more of a personality. He’s something of a cardboard cutout right now, which is all right for an introduction under such circumstances, but his motivations need to be clarified.

The battle against the 12 Hive Ships was a great showcase for the special effects, and I’m glad the situation wasn’t resolved so easily as suggested. The final solution is also a mere delaying tactic, though. The writers make it sound like Ford is the weak link, and that his presence beyond Atlantis is likely to break the illusion. But that ignores the fact that they run around from planet to planet all the time! Aren’t the Wraith going to find evidence of their continued presence anyway?

I buy the fact that the Wraith would see the explosion and assume that the city was destroyed in a moment of spite. (I’m not sure why the Ancients would have failed to attempt a similar tactic, but there we are.) But the thing with Teyla and her little telepathic connection to the Wraith comes across as too convenient, especially after how difficult it was for her at the end of the first season. For that matter, in a few scenes, Teyla was a little “off”, like in the scene with McKay in the first half, so maybe that’s why I didn’t buy it completely.

This thing with Ford ought to be interesting. It’s about time they gave him something to do. He was probably my least favorite character from the first season, and frankly, he could have been the first major casualty, and I wouldn’t have minded. Now, though, he ought to be trouble for the team, and his ordeal might serve to explore more about the Ancient/Wraith connection.

I love the Daedalus! I thought the Prometheus kicked some serious butt, but this ship is even more massive and formidable. I love it when the writers actually think about how the shields and weapons work, and keep the technobabble to a relatively low roar by using established concepts and playing them out. By using and removing the one quick advantage of having the Daedalus around, the writers keep it from becoming too convenient a plot element.

As season premieres go, it was pretty good. It had a lot to cover, and it did that and more. I didn’t see Ford’s thing coming at all, especially since problems like that typically get resolved. I hope that this is a sign that the writers will continue to “up the ante” and keep the episodes from becoming too self-contained. The first season had a nice balance of dropping information about the mythos into each and every episode, and I’d love to see that continue.

Writing: 2/2
Acting: 2/2
Direction: 2/2
Style: 3/4

Final Rating: 9/10

Battlestar Galactica 2.1: "Scattered"

Written by David Wettle and Bradley Thompson
Directed by Michael Rymer

In which Colonel Tigh is forced to take command of Galactica, but when something goes wrong when an emergency jump, his confidence is tested when difficult choices must be made…


If there’s one thing that I really like about “Battlestar: Galactica”, it’s the measured pacing. The story isn’t artificially accelerated to serve the purposes of a fickle fanbase or network pressure; the producers tell the story the way they want to, and if it takes forever, then it takes forever. Ron Moore probably had enough of being jerked around by networks after “Roswell”, so why not make a show on his own terms and be done with it?

The result is very different than most shows, even the ones that I love, where arc elements are equally important as stand-alone elements. Taken along with the “Stargate” shows, where arc elements are typically not as important as maintaining an episodic format, this is like a breath of fresh air. (I like all the various series I’ve mentioned, BTW!) But how many other shows would focus almost entirely on the psychological issues of a few characters, letting the audience’s questions smolder for a little while longer?

A lot of this episode is about Col. Tigh and his massive lack of self-esteem. He’s frackin’ right about the fact that he shouldn’t be in command! A lot of what he takes on his shoulders isn’t for him to answer to, but he’s a drunkard and his personality clashes with everyone in the universe. That makes him a capable enough second, but not the commander, and it shows. Things get done, but things also get missed. It’s inexcusable for Tigh to miss the fact that an obvious breeching pod slammed into his ship.

But like so much on this show, it’s about the consequences of how events are handled, not the events themselves, that matter the most. Sure, one wonders what’s going on with the Boomer who shot Adama, but it’s how Tigh deals with her confusion that hits home. It’s how Adama’s decision to incarcerate Roslin could very well make her stronger among the people, not unlike Zarek in the first season. Circumstances are likely to make things a lot harder on Apollo than they already are, if the civilians and soldiers become even more divided.

I loved the short scene with Starbuck and Helo, especially since it raises more questions about what the Cylons might be up to. Helo clearly sees less difference between the humans and Boomer than one might think, and if she is indeed pregnant, he’s got plenty of reason. Starbuck ought to know from her own experience that there are organic components to the next-gen Cylon tech. Why wouldn’t that include clones with Cylon nanotech intelligences?

Which brings me to the whole Six/Baltar thing. I understood up until the point that she said she was the mother and Baltar was the father. It worked better as a metaphor (humans and Cylons birthing a new hybrid species), but then again, if Boomer can be pregnant, so can Six. More to the point, if Baltar believes that God wants such a hybrid race, he’s likely to ensure it, however possible. What if that was the point? What if the Cylons see humans as little more than breeding stock, so they force humanity into small, manageable numbers? The Cylons could use them until the new hybrid species is viable on its own, and then they could wipe humanity out.

It’s probably a bit more complicated than that, and it will likely take a season or two for things to really make sense. Until then, this bunker mentality is working well in terms of the psychological drama. Starbuck and Helo are still on Caprica, there are survivors on Kobol, and there’s the fracturing within the fleet itself. By keeping all of those balls in play, the writers give themselves plenty to keep themselves (and us!) occupied.

Writing: 2/2
Acting: 2/2
Direction: 2/2
Style: 2/4

Final Rating: 8/10

Buffy 4.16: "Who Are You"

Written by Joss Whedon
Directed by Joss Whedon

In which Faith tries to slip her way into Buffy’s world, but as she begins to experience Buffy’s life, she begins losing sight of her own personality, while Buffy struggles with the Watchers…


Status Report

The previous episode focused primarily on the fact that Faith had come out of her coma with a fractured sense of self and a set of unjustified grievances the size of Montana. It ended with Faith literally taking everything from Buffy and forcing Buffy to walk in her shoes for the rest of her life. As revenge fantasies go, Faith manages to live out one of the more satisfying ones. The theme of the season, however, is self-identity, and how one learns to define one’s purpose, so Faith doesn’t have it as easy as she might like.

At this point of the season, things finally begin to gel in terms of the season arc. Buffy’s personal issues and the fracturing of the gang into personal growth experiences has left the door wide open for someone to come along and organize the demonic world. One gets the sense that the Mayor’s defeat at the end of the third season left most demons searching for their own direction and purpose, and the Initiative’s work sent them into even more of a panic. Adam steps in and finds his place in the world as the one to gather the troops and make a move to dominate; instead of being the perfect demon-killing machine, Adam becomes the perfect weapon to eliminate humans.

Given how much time was spent in the previous episode on determining Adam’s next move, it’s interesting to note how Faith disrupts that effort in a major way. Certainly Faith has no intention of risking herself to stop some killing machine that she hopes to never encounter. Her thought process never went beyond getting on a plane and pretending at having a new life. But even before that happens, the nurturing aspect of Buffy’s world begins to have a disturbing effect on her. The unconditional love of a mother is not something Faith is used to experiencing.

The bit with the mirror is a lot of fun, and it gives Sarah a chance to demonstrate her ability to mimic Eliza’s particular depiction of Faith. The constant, mocking repetition of “because it’s wrong” provides a baseline for Faith’s mental stability. Faith sees Buffy and her moral compass as hopelessly naïve and self-limiting in the beginning, when she has some hope of remaining unscathed by the trauma of her own decisions.

This being a Joss episode, everything promised regarding Willow and Tara in “Hush” comes to fruition. Unlike some of the other aspects of the season, their relationship has grown on a fairly logical pace. The effort to make Tara look unconventionally attractive continues, however, and in some scenes, the effect is actually closer to disturbing. Willow would definitely go for a goth Wicca; she wouldn’t go for someone who looks like a stoner. Sure, Tara may be trying to look a certain way to place the rest of the world at arms’ length, but it makes one wonder about Willow’s taste.

For all that, Joss is remarkably honest about the circumstances of the relationship between Willow and Tara. A lot of fans eventually took issue with the way that the relationship ended and its supposed connotation for “the nature of lesbians”. What is often overlooked is the fact that Willow might have easily gone into a relationship with a male Wiccan, with the same end result. The entire relationship begins out of a shared passion for magic, and from the beginning, Willow is attracted to the allure of sharing and expanding her abilities. The seeds for Willow’s descent are already well established. In turn, Tara’s personality is established in such a way that she is effectively centering her universe around Willow.

One could draw parallels of dominance/submission within that relationship, but that would ignore the fact that Tara is a person who has been taught to demean herself, regardless of the relationship. In a way, her reaction to Willow is the kind of reaction she would have had to anyone who treats her as valuable. The point is that these are character flaws that are entirely independent of the fact that this is a lesbian relationship, and the eventual consequences derive solely from those previously established character flaws.

Something very interesting happens when Faith vamps up Buffy. One immediately realizes that a lot of the inherent sexiness of Buffy’s character disappeared after the third season. Part of that is certainly character-driven; Buffy had more than enough reason to reject the side of her that resembled Faith and everything Faith loved about being a Slayer. But part of it is the fact that Sarah became a bit too skinny over time, to the point that they couldn’t even find a stunt woman who could match her body frame. Not to be crude, but Buffy used to have cleavage, and those leather pants used to fit a lot better. (Why wouldn’t Faith choose a push-up bra, when in her usual body, she’s displaying the bosom without hesitation?) Sarah still looks damn good in this episode, and she knows how to be seductive and dangerous, but it exposes how much that side of her character has been missing.

On another note, the Watcher hitmen finally catch up with Faith’s body, and Buffy is probably not happy to discover that the Watchers have a cleaner squad. For that matter, it’s a little surprising to think that the Watchers would have people ready and waiting to conduct extreme prejudice on Slayers who cross the line. Joss is clearly trying to give the Watchers a dangerous edge, but it doesn’t quite fit with the impressions of the organization thus far. It also makes one wonder why, if the Watchers were willing to eliminate Faith, they were more than happy to let Buffy run around as a rogue agent. (Then again, as previously mentioned, it works to their advantage, since Buffy gets to risk their neck while they get time to train the Potentials more thoroughly.)

Faith seems to enjoy toying with the Scoobies, but it bothers her somewhat to know that Willow hates her. This is the other side of the equation that Faith can’t seem to deal with. She’s not comfortable with the kind of world that Buffy has creating for herself, filled with genuine nurturing, and she doesn’t like dealing with the reality of how strongly people hate her for her actions. To live as Buffy, Faith has to start thinking and reacting like Buffy, and it brings up alternative emotional responses that she would normally be able to dismiss.

She quickly decides to use Adam as an excuse to go have some wicked fun at the Bronze, and she runs into Spike. At this point, Spike is still engaged in his hate/hate relationship with Buffy, but Joss turns that around in a hurry. This is where Sarah really makes Faith’s raw sexual energy shine through, even if she doesn’t have the assets for it. Faith’s little description of what she could do speaks volumes, and it certainly gave Spike (and most male fans!) something to think about. If Spike wasn’t secretly lusting after Buffy before, he certainly was after that!

But it also reveals something that Faith’s character has always hinted at: the raw and primal instincts of the Chosen. All that power and physical ability is clearly a rush, and tapping into the wellspring at the heart of the Chosen line is like a direct connection to the pure and predatory animal. Faith let the pain and suffering of a (likely) sexually abusive childhood translate into a desire to use those primal urges to control her relationships with men. She plays Spike like a fiddle.

At the same time, what does that say about Buffy? She has to feel a lot of the same desires, but her sense of morality keeps a lot of that in check. Indeed, she seems to hold back just a little too much at times. When she loses that sense of purpose and direction, and she wants to punish herself in the sixth season, how does she respond? By abusing herself and Spike in exactly the way that Faith depicts in this episode. It’s hard not to believe that this was intentional on Joss’ part, because while Buffy’s self-control is often better than the alternative, her self-denial can be dangerous when something drives her to give in.

Willow and Tara run into Faith at the Bronze, and for a moment, it feels like a scene designed to set Tara at odds with Buffy, forcing Willow to choose. Faith really rips into Tara, and she takes a lot of pleasure in undermining Tara’s confidence. But when it comes to stepping into the Slayer role again, this time as Buffy, Faith is faced with the simplicity of human compassion. It confuses the hell out of her, and so when Willow gives her the idea to visit Riley, it gives her another way to escape the uncomfortable feelings.

Buffy, meanwhile, gets a really good look at how far the Watchers are willing to go to get their way. One supposes that Buffy’s defection wasn’t a big deal, because they always felt like Faith (and her successor) was their true responsibility. But what does it say that there would be people working for the Watchers who consider themselves expendable? Fighting demons is one thing, but this is a squad designed for something else entirely. There are shades of the Talamasca from the Anne Rice novels, but since this side of the Watchers is largely absent in future seasons, it’s a concept that isn’t realized.

Tara shows a depth to her character when she very carefully tells Willow what she “felt” about the Faith-in-Buffy situation. It would have been easy for Tara to dismiss those feelings and assume that Buffy was simply a lot worse a person than Willow believed. Instead, Tara understood what kind of person Willow would gravitate towards, and saw the inconsistencies. It speaks volumes about how important Willow is to Tara.

Much like the scene with Spike, Sarah does a damn good job of seducing Riley, while keeping true to Faith’s character. Once again, a less emaciated Sarah would have been more interesting to watch, but they play it up beautifully. The shot of Sarah crawling across the bed is particularly memorable! But this is Faith, of course, and so she prefers to play power games, rather than explore what love entails. Riley, on the other hand, has no intention of letting that happen.

Joss takes both relationships to a similar place, but with vastly opposite results. The use of magic as a metaphor for Willow and Tara’s first sexual experience together is very well done. Allyson actually makes her ecstasy look genuine and triumphant, as opposed to the look of terror on Faith’s face when she realizes that she’s in completely new territory. Willow and Tara open up to one another without reservation; Faith does the same, but it only throws her into confusion. It’s a great example of classic Joss interplay.

Amidst Willow and Tara finding out who they are together, Riley figuring out that he loves Buffy, and Faith realizing that pretending to be Buffy means dropping her defenses far more than she expected, Adam also comes into his own. He becomes the inspirational leader of a gang of vampires, but that’s only the beginning. Adam intends far more, and as the season draws to a close, eliminating the opposition is his primary goal.

Forrest, like nearly every other appearance since “The I in Team”, doesn’t give Buffy an inch, and thanks to that, Faith snaps right back into her usual persona. It’s easy, since Forrest doesn’t even try to see any other point of view than his own, and he actually gets more and more annoying as the season progresses.

Meanwhile, Buffy gets the drop on the cleaners (something else that doesn’t give them much credibility), and as expected, it’s not long before she’s running to get help from Giles. This is easily the best scene with Eliza as Buffy; she gets Sarah’s mannerisms and speech patterns down perfectly. It’s a little disappointing to Buffy (and the audience) that Giles doesn’t look into her eyes and recognize her, but Buffy’s spiel regarding Giles and his sex life was priceless. (Ever notice how only Joss bothered to mention Olivia?)

Things come to a head when Adam’s latest minions take over a church, threatening to kill everyone, high on overcoming their fears. Faith hears about the incident in the airport, and instead of boarding her plane, she decides that she’s Buffy, and so she has to do the right thing. Her sense of identity is completely shattered. Now, when she says “because it’s wrong”, she actually means it. Instead of taking over Buffy’s life and stealing her world, she’s allowed Buffy’s world to take over her.

Thanks to some courageous silliness on Giles’ part, it doesn’t take long for Buffy and Faith to come to blows, once Adam’s minions are taken out. Seeing her own body again sends Faith right over the edge. Everything she hates about herself, now that she’s had a means of expressing what she might really have wanted in life, comes into focus, and it’s not pretty. The fight is remarkably short, but in retrospect, it makes sense that Faith would run away once back in her own body. Faith is defeated in every sense of the world, and whatever strands of sanity remained are long gone. As would soon be clear on “Angel”, that self-loathing would translate into a deathwish; she has, finally, hit rock bottom.

Of course, the damage was already done. Buffy had to fight to take back her life, but Faith made a mess of it in less than a day. Worst of all is the fact that Riley slept with Faith, unaware that it wasn’t Buffy. Giles’ lack of recognition hurt in one respect, but it’s Riley that she really would have expected to come through. Then again, she needs to give him some slack, given what he’s been through lately.

Unfortunately, the experience reinforces some of the personality changes that Buffy had undergone since the third season. Buffy is one step further down a path of self-awareness, but for all that, she’s afraid to let her sexuality to the surface in any way that would resemble Faith’s aggressiveness. She’s still sexual, of course (thinking of “Where the Wild Things Are”), but she also begins to lose some of the joy in life.

Buffy’s search for a sense of purpose and identity would not be resolved in the fourth season. Instead, the end of the fourth season would transform her journey, placing the focus on what it means to be a Slayer and one of the Chosen. But in order to make sense of how that journey changes Buffy, especially in terms of Dawn’s arrival, Buffy needs to get a grip on who she is now that she’s becoming an adult. Having everything in her life taken away without warning, only to get it back, helps to give her that sense of who she wants to be when all is said and done.


Memorable Quotes

TARA: “I am, you know.”
WILLOW: “What?”
TARA: “Yours.”

WILLOW: “What’s ‘wetworks’?”
XANDER: “Scuba-type stuff.”
ANYA: “I thought it was murder?”
XANDER: “Well, yeah…but there could be underwater murder…with snorkels…”

ANYA: “We were gonna light a bunch and candles and have sex near them.”
FAITH: “Well, we certainly don’t want to cut into those seven minutes…”

SPIKE: “You know why I really hate you, Summers?”
FAITH: “’Cause I’m a stuck-up tightass with no sense of fun?”
SPIKE: “Well… yeah…that covers a lot of it…”
FAITH: “’Cause I could do anything I want, and instead I choose to pout and whine and feel the burden of Slayerness? I mean, I could be rich. I could be famous. I could have anything. Anyone. Even you, Spike. I could ride you at a gallop until your legs buckled and your eyes rolled up. I’ve got muscles you’ve never even dreamed of. I could squeeze you until you pop like dry champagne and you’d beg me to hurt you just a little bit more. And you know why I don’t? Because it’s wrong.”

BUFFY: “Giles, you just have to…stop inching! You were inching!”

BUFFY: “Ask me anything.”
GILES: “Who’s president?”
BUFFY: “We’re checking for Buffy, not a concussion…”

BUFFY: “Oh! When I had psychic power, I heard my mom think that you were like a stevedore during sex. Wh…do you want me to continue?”
GILES: “Actually, I beg you to stop.”
BUFFY: “What’s a stevedore?”


Final Analysis

Overall, this episode provides a strong conclusion to the first half of the story, exploring several different aspects of self-identity in a well-executed script. Joss continues to improve his directorial style by delivering an exciting and funny episode with an equal helping of psychological trauma. Sarah and Eliza do near-perfect impressions of each other, which gives the “body switching” cliché more credibility.

Writing: 2/2
Acting: 2/2
Direction: 2/2
Style: 3/4

Final Rating: 9/10